What Really Happened: 10 Years Later
by DarthFiona
Summary: Chapter One
1. Chapter 1

"Todd," sniffled Elizabeth Wakefield, "how could you?" They were sitting on _their_ bed after Elizabeth had washed the sheets six times in succession, a frenzy of fury and disappointment. Now she was crashing. Now she needed to talk.

He glanced guiltily into her perfect blue-green eyes, the color of an ocean. "Because it's scandalous," he replied gently, "and everyone loves a scandal."

Elizabeth cried so hard her eyes stung. She sniffled, trying to halt the tears. "I thought," she managed to say in a cool, collected voice in spite of the sharp daggers in her heart, "your _wife_ would mean more to you than what other people want. Todd, you married _me_ , not Jessica, you jackass. You asked _me_ for your hand in—I mean, my hand…" her voice trailed off again and shoulders heaved with a storm of sobs. "What does all this say about me?"

He chewed his bottom lip. "What do you mean?"

"I thought I fell for a nice guy," she almost thundered. "A guy who knew what he had. I have never cheated on you!"

Todd laughed coldly. "I read your diary, Lizzie. That is just not true."

Elizabeth shook her head. Droplets of tears sprinkled down from her wet face. "Those diaries were written and published by someone who hates and doesn't 'get' me. Sure, occasionally, I have noticed a cute boy besides you, but in all honesty, I wouldn't have dreamed of cheating on you. Except maybe with Tom…but it was just dreams till after we broke up."

Sourly, Todd spat, "He saved your life."

"Well, Tom is irrelevant. You shamed me. Do you really think I'm going to stay married to you after catching you," she used the "F" word for the first time, "Jessica? After you confessed you guys have been sneaking around behind my back since high school? And your defense," she flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, glowering irritably, "is that she _dresses sexier_? If you like a woman who dresses sexy, why are we married?"

"Because you are wife material, and she's a whore?"

"Oh, Todd." Elizabeth placed her elbows over her thighs and hid her face in her hands. "That is so true…I can't trust you. I can't trust her to keep her flipping panties on. We have twin daughters together," she sighed, touching her perfect round belly, a week past the due date.

Guiltily, Todd shifted his eyes away. "I know…"

"Wait a flapping minute." Elizabeth grabbed his face and stared into his eyes. Her own were round with the realization. "Tyler is yours."

Holding up two thumbs, Todd tried to smile perfectly and failed. "Bingo."

"He's six years old," Elizabeth said with disgust. "I noticed he looked like you, but I hoped it was a cousin of yours. He's my nephew! And wait…that'd mean…" She dropped her hands from his face and clutched her stomach as a realization stabbed her like knives. "He'd have been conceived right after we got married."

"And she just got pregnant again."

"But it's not yours?"

Todd sighed then raked his hands through his curly brown locks. "Liz, listen, she hasn't slept with anyone but me since we got married. She pretends, of course. So you won't know. She also went off birth control on our wedding night and hasn't taken it up again since."

"That's disgusting!" Elizabeth grouched. "This is almost like I'm having sex with my sister." She slapped Todd so hard it left a handprint. "What were you thinking? You perv!"

She stormed out of their room, determined never to speak to him again for as long as she lived.

And who should she run into outside her front door but Bruce Patman, the richest guy ever, sitting in his perfect car, waiting for her. "Get in," he ordered, shoving open the door.

And she did.

Elizabeth Wakefield opened her eyes, rubbing the crick in her neck.

"What a stupid dream," she declared.

Todd Wilkins? She was so over that boy. She hadn't thought about him once since the Sam Burgess drama. Todd had dropped out of college, which she guessed wasn't too bad since her husband had as well.

But what kind of schizophrenic sister would do that to Elizabeth? Sure, Jessica had pulled a lot of bitchy stunts in her life, but she was growing as a person.

"Honey, I'm home!" called her man from the front door. He worked at night, so the mornings and evenings were their special time together.

Jessica called from the couch, "Stop being so loud! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

And Bruce Patman? He'd never drive through their neighborhood, much less up to their front door. That boy was a miserable case. He now lived with stoners, had lost half his teeth, and his father had disowned him. His car didn't work half the time. Elizabeth only knew all this because Jessica loved the latest gossip.

Even with Facebook, Jessica mostly preferred word of mouth. She let Lila Fowler and the gang stalk people's Facebook pages then play a game of, "You didn't hear it from me, but…" it always distracted her from the fact that she hadn't worked in a year. That last job was such a disaster Jessica was no longer hireable.

Elizabeth cringed, recalling what happened. Before she could go vividly through the details, her husband appeared in the doorway, rushed to kiss her lips, and asked sweetly, "When are you kicking her out?"

Elizabeth laughed. "She's my sister…" Bile reached up her throat as she remembered her dream. No. She would not dwell on that. "We are never kicking her out." _Unless she tries to hump you._


	2. Chapter 2

What no one seemed to understand about Jessica Wakefield was that she was horribly bored of life.

She'd already done it all. She'd been chased by a werewolf, for crying out loud.

Her teenage years had been far too exciting in that her mid-twenties had left her feeling out of it. Wanting excitement, yet everything bored her.

So she'd done things in attempt to spicen up her life. Things in the workplace she knew she shouldn't do.

She'd been in the rut for three weeks when she noticed her boss staring at her boobs during a meeting. Playing with a pen as he talked, subconsciously running it through his teeth. He spoke of numbers and prepositions but his eyes were on his desired prize.

She'd tried to have a little fun with him. Came into his office when he was going through emails, shut the door, and removed her shirt. Then she sat in his lap.

He'd given her a look like she was a spider. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting ahead?" she suggested.

Instead of kissing her, he'd shaken up a storm and fired her on the spot for "inappropriate behavior in the workplace".

He could look at women but couldn't handle having the package in his hands. Better at window-shopping, she'd concluded.

She'd gotten another job, and things had been fine for two weeks. Boring as spit, but fine.

Until she noticed one of her co-workers gaping at her butt when she bent down to pick up a pen.

He was hunky but boring as tree sap. Still, she figured, _Why not?_

They'd gotten caught in an indecent position on his desk. Both of them had been fired for "inappropriate behavior in the workplace".

The thing she'd been most excited about was the large window in his room. The wall-sized window. All pedestrians would have to do was look up to see the steamy show. Except it'd been so steamy that the window had fogged up.

That had been what excited Jessica, what made her skin tingle with desire, not his hands or his bad breath. She'd made sure they were in clear view of the window.

Five short-term jobs later, all ending in similar ways, she finally put icing on the cake.

The most boring meeting of her life had just ended. She'd been ready to hang herself, thinking, _Please don't let_ this _be what being a grown-up is about._

Then she felt someone gazing at her.

She turned flirty eyes to meet the man's gaze. And realized it was the boss' wife.

She was a round woman, with four grown children, the youngest a year under Jessica. Yet the look on her face was of open desire. The same look men gave her when they wanted to see up her skirt.

Jessica had never been with a woman, and suddenly, curiosity tickled her brain.

The boss' wife wasn't difficult to get alone. Jessica started sobbing about how her boyfriend dumped her. The woman was quite happy to hold her and rock her. Her arms were wrapped around Jessica's breasts, and Jessica was pretty sure it was on purpose.

Tear-stained, Jessica reached up and kissed the woman so both their lips tingled. The woman accepted the kiss hungrily, and five minutes later, they were both naked and playing with each other.

It was the most exciting thing Jessica had done, perhaps because she felt so naughty doing it. She didn't need to get caught. She knew she was doing something outrageous, something utterly scandalous. She didn't need to be on the paper to feel it.

They snuck around ten times, kissing secretly when no one was looking, getting locked in rooms together at every opportunity.

And then her husband came home too early.

His wife had prepared a romantic dinner for Jessica. They'd finished eating and were licking each other on the sofa when he came home.

He was _furious_. "Out of my house!" he thundered.

As Jessica struggled to pull her panties on in front of him, he coldly informed her, "Tomorrow, you come to work. Get your stuff. You are fired."

And he made sure no one would damn well hire her again. He was that angry. Jessica sure hadn't counted on that.

She was in a real rut. She hoped turning thirty in less than a year and a half would solve this problem. Goodness knew, she had survived too long feeling this achingly bored. If being thirty didn't settle her down a lot, she might just drive off a mountain for that thrill she used to get.

It didn't help matters that she'd had to move in with Elizabeth and her husband. Elizabeth's husband was—miraculously—duller than Todd, what an achievement for Liz!

Her parents had not wanted her living with them; they'd had the mindset that kids were supposed to grow up and fly the coop. Pointing out that V.C. Andrews had been sixty and living with her mother—a fact she garnered from one of her friends, for when she'd heard this at a younger age, Jessica's heart had stopped with icy fear—had done nothing to soften the hardness from her mother's expression.

Truth be told, Jessica would rather live with Liz than her parents anyway. In the week she'd moved back in with them, Mrs. Wakefield had treated her like a stupid child so much that Jessica had constantly yelled at her and slammed her door, frustration rearing its ugly head.

She'd take Sir Dullsville over her mother talking to her like she was an idiot and whispering to her sisters on the phone, "My goodness, this Jessica of mine. She's a toddler at heart," like Jessica didn't have batlike hearing.

On the final day in her childhood home, her mother had snapped, "Why can't you find some rich guy to hoodwink and live with him? I _need_ a home without children. Also, if you have kids, don't send them here for me to foster. _You_ are an adult. So act like one."

That had been too much for Jessica. She had snapped, "There's not a man on this earth who is exciting enough to get me to tie any knots." Though Neil Martin had come close. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Jessica had sniped, "Don't count on me to give you grandbabies. I'm a lesbian now." Her door had slammed three times.

She'd been on Liz's doorstep not thirty minutes later, in a blur of tears. That had been an accompliment, considering how much clothes she had. The fact that she left most of it behind was a show of how upset she was. She could've snatched it all up in a jiffy if she'd wanted to, but she hadn't cared enough.

And then she had sat on her sister's doorstep alone, crying about how she no longer felt like herself. It had taken a bit of self-sweeping before she'd managed to knock on the door, having rubbed the tears from her face and applied makeup to take the mess out of her hotness.

This was her life. This was what being an adult was. Living on her sister's couch, a beggar. No job, no way to support herself unless she went the ways of the desperate women. Her sister, promising to care for her forever and give—not lend—her money since she knew of her most embarrassing state.

This was what it was to be a grown-up. And twenty-eight-year-old Jessica decided it sucked.


	3. Chapter 3

Todd Wilkins' eyelids opened halfway of their own accord.

A six-year-old girl was sniffling at the foot of his bed. She had dark brown hair in a messy ponytail and bifocals. Around her body was a set of pink pig pajamas right down to piggy slippers.

"Hey, Mika," (pronounced my-kuh), "what's up?" Todd asked around the cotton in his mouth.

"I'm not smart enough, Daddy. I'm n-never g-going to pass my SATs. I'm a failure."

Todd could not believe he was having this conversation with his daughter at five-twenty a.m. on Saturday. Especially since he'd gone to bed around three.

"Honey." He tried to put his arm around her, but his vision was so knocked off he ended up circling his arm around a pillow. Also, although he imagined he was sitting up to comfort her, his back hadn't moved a centimeter. He had mirages that leapt him from his lying position to flick beside her and back. He was so out of it he had no idea which one was real.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" she sniffled.

"Most kids don't go to college until they're…they're…eighteen," he managed.

"Yeah," she whined, "but Marcie has been in college for _two years_! And she was four when she started. Daddy, if I get too old, they won't let me in." Big, fat tears slid down her cheeks.

Todd wanted so much to start guffawing his head off. Somehow, he managed to stroke the pillow and utter affectionately, "Aw,Mika, sweetheart, you'll go in your own time. Don't sweat the SATs. I swear if you flunk them, you'll just stay here with me, is all."

He felt her quaking on the bed. He tensed himself for the outburst.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE DEPENDANT UPON YOU MY WHOLE LIFE!" she screeched. "Don't you think that's unhealthy?"

Todd wished her mother hadn't deposited her on his doorstep then vanished after ringing the doorbell. In the bassinet, he'd found a note saying she was moving to New York and didn't need a baby to hold her down. Surely she had more maternal instincts than he did?

She had never returned. It was possible Mika's mom had been hit by a taxi or something, but Todd thought it more likely she'd left because she was scared he'd ask her to marry him. As if. A kid needed a mom, but they could've merely lived in the same apartment building.

Like Mika, her mother was a genius. Mika made Todd proud, but her mother had made him feel stupid. They'd had a fun one-night stand, laughing and smiling disbelievingly over how adorable the other was. Five seconds after that was over with, she'd begun to try to have an intellectual conversation with him. When he told her he was a pretty casual guy who preferred pizza over filet mignon, etc, she'd given him a look like he was a dead rat in her shoe.

When he closed the door on her, he'd done so with glee. Almost smiling. She'd gone as far as to ask, "What are you, some _jock_?" and when he told her he used to play basketball, she'd run to his bathroom to puke. "I slept with a jock!" he'd heard her moan. "A stupid jock!"

She'd been super easy, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd slept with many guys in a heartbeat, but he knew even if she had, Mika was his. For one thing: she had his tastebuds. She _hated_ filet mignon and loved pizza. For another, she looked _just_ like Todd, save the freckle on the inside of her right arm she'd gotten from her mother.

He'd loved that freckle, running his finger up her bare arm, before he found out what a snob the woman was.

"Mika, honey, when are you suh-supposed to take the SATs again?" Todd murmured, much too aware of how dry his mouth was and how much he needed to brush his teeth.

"In two hours."

"Oh, crud, are you _serious_? I thought it was next Saturday!" He leapt to his feet, and through his foggy vision managed to read his calendar. "Wow. A whole week flew out from under me," he mused disbelievingly. He had been stuffing his schedule to bursting, but he'd been sure he'd had an eye on the date. "Okay, slugger, get dressed. Dad will drive you."

She turned around on the bed and looked him over, her lips pursed. "No."

"No?"

"Daddy, I'm over here." He jerked his head in the direction of the ceiling. Sighing dramatically, she declared, "I'll get Mrs. Thorne to take me." Mrs. Thorne was their elderly neighbor next door who, while sweet and charming, was embarrassed of the fact that she was losing her eyesight and the ability to drive.

Todd started to utter a protest, but Mika wouldn't have it. "This is _Sweet Valley_ , Daddy. Nothing bad ever happens here." He closed his eyes, and she kissed his forehead then left to get dressed.


	4. Chapter 4

The journalist had decided to have a Sunday brunch with her three closest friends, Lila Fowler, and her sister. While they had tea in Liz's parlor, the boys and Lila's wife would watch football in the living room.

Jessica was the only one without a significant other, and Elizabeth could tell it bummed her out. Every time Elizabeth mentioned the football game, no matter how dismissively, Jessica's face would crumple and she'd walk out on Elizabeth in the middle of her sentence.

There was nothing to be done for it though. Privately, Elizabeth felt Jessica was still mooning over her last boss' wife. Which was strange for her since she'd been certain her twin was as straight as she was.

The way her husband made her feel in their private moments. He unbound all her uptightedness and brought out the woman within. Made her cry deep down low in her throat for only him.

She could not imagine getting that blown away over a woman.

However, Denise disagreed with Elizabeth. When Liz would lament, "I'm worried about Jess," on the phone, Denise would counter, "Honey, she's going through things. Realizing the best time of her life is over. People always say that high school is the best time, but for most of us, that's not true. For Jess it is."

"Well," Elizabeth would say, "but I don't think that's it. I think she was in love with her last partner."

Denise would then sigh. "Liz, I think you're romanticizing things. I know you disagree with me, but I do not see Jessica falling seriously in love. I'm sure she had a lot of fun, because it is Jessica. She's the girl who cried love. But when push comes to shove…is she talking about the guy? Does she act like she's thinking about him? I don't know, Liz. I think it's Jessica she misses, not a lover."

Elizabeth hadn't told anyone what Jessica had done, and Jessica wasn't talking about it either. Elizabeth had merely said Jessica had had an affair with a married co-worker, and their friends had filled in the blanks. Only Jessica, Elizabeth, Elizabeth's husband, Jessica's boss, and the boss' wife knew.

Elizabeth had to admit, Jessica wasn't talking much these days. She merely looked lackluster and downhearted.

"Did you hear what happened to that new girl, Miranda?" Lila was asking. "She tried to demand someone respect her, and she got laughed at so hard, she stabbed one of the guys in the gut."

Denise took her bottom lip between her teeth but did not nibble on it as Jessica's eyes widened with excitement. "That's disgusting," Denise said. "She really lost her cool."

"Yep." Lila took a bit of newspaper off a neat pile and fanned herself. "And illegal. She's in jail."

"Whoa," Jessica gasped.

"So she called her family in New York, and they're demanding she be released from all charges for self-defense," Lila finished giddily, "but what's hilarious is no one laid a hand on her."

"Will they do that just to shut her family up?" Sharon Lester, who worked with Elizabeth, inquired curiously.

"If they do," Lila enlightened, "she'll harm others. Honestly. That girl has a history. Her file is bloodstained."

Denise grimaced. "I'm glad I didn't witness that."

Jessica rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Denise. "You have _such_ a weak stomach. I wish I'd been there. Do you know anyone who witnessed it, Lila?"

"Aaron Dallas," Lila replied without missing a beat. "He was having dinner there with a date. I hear the date did not go well…mm, but also that girl who used to hang out with Liz in middle school…Enid…"

"That was _high school_ ," Jessica rolled her eyes. "Middle school was Amy. Who also ditched Lizzie." She sat on Elizabeth's lap and tugged playfully on her sister's earlobe. "When they got tired of being prisses. Will Lizzie ever outgrow it?"

Elizabeth groaned. "Sister, dear, it's called having compassion for humans. Not just seeing the surface but trying to take other people's feelings into account. You should try it sometime." She shoved Jessica off her lap as Jessica guffawed.

Amber smacked Elizabeth's hand playfully. "Don't you take my Jessica away from me," she joked. Elizabeth had met her in a coffee shop. They got along rather quickly, and she used to be best friends with Jessica and Elizabeth equally. Which Elizabeth had loved about her. However, as much as she tried to bring out Jessica's fun-loving side these past three months, Jessica still only brightened for gossip. Amber had taken to not inviting Jessica on group outings, but she made it apparent she wanted the old Jessica back.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow. "Steven has said it multiple times. It literally would not kill Jess to think of someone else before acting."

Holding her tongue between her teeth, Amber nodded and combed her fingers through her reddish brown hair. "Nah, but the world would heave a huge sigh of disappointment."

"I think I literally died a tragic death listening to you mopers," Lila declared, taking a swig of her beer. She'd had a rebellious phase, during which she'd discovered beer was fantastic to her taste buds. The rebellious stage had also caused her to make out with a girl and like it so much they ended up married. Jessica had been the maid of honor, and Lila's wife's best friend had been the "best man" (she was born a woman but considered herself a man; Jessica had found her highly peculiar as they strolled down the aisle together).

"You can't _literally_ die a tragic death," Sharon pointed out without enthusiasm, "just from listening to someone. It's figuratively. No wonder you didn't major in Language."

Lila scowled darkly. "I majored in _humor_ , punk. Want a piece of me?" She held up her fists playfully. Sharon stared at her like she was insane.

"Ladies," Elizabeth hummed good-spiritedly, although she felt anything but in good spirits watching Lila propose a showdown. "Put those fists away."

Sharon shrugged. "Actually, a fist-fight might be fun to watch at the mall," she voiced, "but I'm not particularly enthralled at the idea of engaging in one." Turning to Amber, the caramel-skinned girl suggested, "You could take her? Not in Lizzie's clean home, you understand, but at the mall?" Her eyes were thirsty to witness the event.

"No thanks!" Amber replied smoothly. "Lila's a fierce cougar. I ain't letting her hit me with a ten-foot pole. And also, Sharon, sweetie, you need to stop watching _Game of Thrones_. I'm not fighting any battles for you."

"Speaking of battles," Denise said, turning her attention to Elizabeth's eighth-month pregnant belly. "Have the girls been squabbling again?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Not for the last hour or so. I think they're sleeping."

"You sure are lucky to have twins in the first litter," Lila marveled. "Do you think the second will be quadruples? I mean, there was a woman in Russia who had sixty-nine babies due to the quads."

Elizabeth shuddered. "How do you know this when I've never heard it before?"

Lila laughed meanly. "Because I make it my duty to make life more exciting." Glancing pointedly at Jessica's flushed face, she added, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "and it works."

There was a knock on the parlor door. Winston Egbert poked his head in. Looking directly at Elizabeth, he said, "Your husband is here."

"I know that," she replied. "I can see him."

Then she strolled to the entrance, a silly, sappy smile on her face as she locked eyes with the love of her life…

Connor McDermott.


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth Wakefield was the love of Connor McDermott's life.

For a year after they'd parted ways, he'd been dandy. Partied a bit with this girl and that, got inspired musically by tons of life stuff.

Then a year and a half after he'd started college, he'd found a letter she'd written him, a letter he'd found in her diary, never intending to send it. A letter he'd stolen (though she'd clearly predicted Jessica had when she noticed it was gone, judging by the repeated odd looks she gave her twin).

The letter was so open, honest, and raw it had burned his eyes going in.

After that, his soul had felt haunted. The only thing he was able to be inspired by anymore was his dream of Liz. Wake or sleep. He missed her. In midst of all the phony people he met, places he went, he craved her.

He was sure he stepped down a notch in his mother's eyes when he dropped out of college. That hadn't had anything to do with Elizabeth though. He didn't have enough scholarships or the dough, and at the end of struggling to stay in the system, he stopped halfway to another financial aid office to wonder why.

Several college graduates had told him tales of not getting a job immediately, of debt as steep as a mountain, of all the things college doesn't want students to know before they sign up. In the end, although his mother would never understand, Connor had felt college was a daydream for women like his mother but not as chivalrous as it sounded.

Basically a knight in shining armor who was grouchy. It was still a knight but wasn't as heavenly as you fantasized.

He never expected his mother, or his younger sister, Megan, to understand. Megan was a dance major. She'd yelled herself hoarse when she found out he quit college.

He always wondered why people got raging furious at loved ones for not being who they want them to be. His mom didn't even go to college. Megan didn't judge her. But since Connor had dropped out, Megan had forgotten he was the big brother who'd raised her and had transformed into a superior, haughty version of her old self.

After he left the college scene, he put all his energy into music, playing wherever he could find a gig. Working as a waiter throughout the day to pay the bills.

One day, a customer at a diner strode up to him, her hair in a blonde ponytail. When he took a look at her face, his heart stopped cold.

Elizabeth Wakefield in the flesh.

"That song was about me." She sounded a bit surprised. She didn't recognize him at first, for he owned a scruffy beard. "I know it was. Because you called it 'Elizabeth'. And she had ocean-blue eyes. And the line 'wake in a field of sea…'" She studied his expression as he tried to flinch away. "Connor," she whispered.

"In the flesh," he replied.

Elizabeth had apparently had some crazy college years, falling for a serial killer then a football dude, then some guy named Sam who was supposed to be dirt-poor but the writers decided he'd only be exciting if they made him richer than the richest man on earth, so they went around and broke him behind her back. And then there was that duke dude who seemed like a perfect knight in shining armor who'd taken Elizabeth's virginity in the land of fantasy imaginings: London, England.

She'd returned to the USA, realizing it was time to forgive her sister and stop playing hooky before she got knocked up. And she'd returned to college.

Their paths became entangled when she was almost done getting her degree. She'd finished up, then they decided to get married. It felt right. It felt wonderful. Everyone was happy for them, it was a dream come true. Elizabeth confessed he was far more real to her than the duke dude, because Connor and Elizabeth had steamy fights and made up passionately. Whereas Duke Dude was never anything but agreeable and happy to see her that she remembered. "He was too perfect," she sighed.

They were sitting on a bench swing outside when she told him this, and her hair was tugging free of her ponytail in the wind. He'd reached to tuck some stray tendrils behind her ear, knowing it was hopeless. "Like you?"

She shook her head. "I'm not _that_ perfect."

He disagreed. She tried too hard to make nice with people. Except him.

It was like a dream, and now she was giving birth to his babies, and he was holding her hand. She was trying to be a good sport about it, but he could tell she was in pain. And too proud to use pain relievers.

"I'm okay," she kept telling the doctors. "No thanks," she repeatedly blurted when they offered an epidural.

Jessica sat in a corner, flipping through a magazine, grumbling that pain relievers should be required for "prisses going through labor". At one point, she mumbled unthinkingly that she would've been a better fit for giving birth and Liz was excellent for raising kids. Connor shot her a dirty look she missed, due to her nose being stuck in the magazine. "Oh, cool! She got highlights!" she gasped about some celebrity just as Connor had been about to open his mouth.

And now the twins were coming. Elizabeth was in terrible condition. Her face was shiny with sweat, and she was clearly exhausted.

"You can do it, honey," Connor coaxed, but it was clear she could not hear him.

"We're going to have to do a C-section," the doctor said suddenly.

Connor bit his bottom lip. "What? Why?"

The doctor showed him the image on the ultrasound. "We're having some trouble. The kids won't survive a natural birth. I told you they might not, but at this stage, it's obvious. She gives birth like this, she'll have two dead babies." He gazed sympathetically into Connor's brown eyes. "As it is, they might not survive anyway."

Connor's jaw fell to the floor as the hospital staff prepared his wife for surgery.

But this was Sweet Valley. Nothing bad ever happened here.


	6. Chapter 6

Megan's brown eyes were wide. She was quite the beauty with her new chic hairstyle and her winning smile. Right now, she was not smiling though.

"Where is my brother?" she demanded of a passing nurse. The nurse threw up her hands and walked off. Megan growled and kept walking down the hallway until she found Jessica Wakefield applying lipstick.

"What are you doing?" she barked, causing Jessica to jump. "Two little girls are being born, and you waste your time smearing your lips with red paint?"

Jessica widened her eyes at the girl. "Megan, sweetie…" She smacked her lips together. "Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?" Megan's ribs felt like they had a knife wedged between them.

"Lizzie went into labor hours ago, didn't she?"

"Yeah, so?"

Blinking her eyes prettily, Jessica replied, "Before you point fingers and snarl at people, you should view your own lack of innocence."

"Huh?"

Sharply, Jessica bit, "Stop acting like I'm so much more selfish than you are. I haven't slept in two nights because I've been worried about Lizzie's babies. I had this little psychic moment that kept me up before she went into labor. You, on the other hand," she pushed on Megan's nose, "slept well last night before showering and coming to the hospital. So don't give me grief for brightening my effing lips. I'm pretty sure I'll be doing my nieces a disservice if their first viewing of me is of me looking like a zombie."

Taking a closer look at Jessica, Megan realized she did look a bit fatigued. And that was after Jessica had used makeup to wipe off whatever she could. Humph. Jessica was a vain one, but she was very beautiful.

"Unlike you," Megan uttered icily, "I am missing _work_ to be here. Sorry you don't have anything better to do with your life than sit around and put on makeup. I'd feel _lucky_ if I was able to freeload on a stupid sister."

Jessica stared at Megan with a sudden hateful gleam in her eye. "Megan, do you know how disrespectful you sound right now? And more importantly, do you care? Honey, if your nieces mean that little to you, go. Do your work thing. Show us how _important_ your empty, loveless life is."

Okay, maybe she shouldn't have called Elizabeth "stupid", but that didn't give Jessica a right to insinuate her life was loveless just because she understood the importance of a dollar. Jessica was being her usual bratty self.

She _hoped_ the kid was more like Elizabeth than Connor. Elizabeth at least understood the important things in life, even if she was too much of a pushover with her sister.

Right as Megan was about to find another place to sit, a nurse came in their direction, carrying something tiny. Megan peered at it and realized it was a dead baby. She turned to Jessica, whose lips were parted as she also looked at the baby.

"Nurse?" The nurse's unfocused eyes glanced at Jessica then did a double-take. She glanced over her shoulder then swiveled to face Jessica. "Is that…my sister's…" Jessica's lips were drooping.

The nurse shrugged uncomfortably and walked off without answering.

Jessica suddenly started to the door from which the woman had come, ignoring the sign, "Only staff unless special permission is granted."

"What are you doing?" Megan croaked.

"If you were family," Jessica grit her teeth, "you wouldn't need to ask."

Megan watched her vanish beyond her sight. Then she sat down and called her boss.

"Do you need me to come in?"

Her boss took a few seconds to reply. "No. Minnie has it covered. You bond with your nieces."

Megan hung up, feeling very out of place and lonely. She wanted so much to feel she belonged here, but she'd felt horribly disconnected from her brother for too long.

She decided it might be best if she left the hospital for a few hours and came back when whatever was going on had settled down.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth was staring, unseeing, through a wall. She had never felt so sad, so utterly broken, at such a loss for words.

"Postpartum depression," the doctor said aloud as he wrote on his clipboard. "Must keep an eye out for suicidal thoughts or killing instincts."

She barely heard him as her eyes filled with despair.

Connor's voice was sharp with disgust. "Are you kidding me? You think Liz is going to kill our second baby? And whaddaya mean, _postpartum depression_? Our baby died, and she's not allowed to feel sad without you Harvard grads classifying it as 'depression'?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Studies have shown…"

Connor snapped back, "Yeah yeah, blah blah."

Narrowing his eyes, the doctor asked, "You don't have a college degree, do you?"

Connor shrugged. "Nope. I've got a music career though. Albeit I'm not famous…"

"It's not blah blah, mister. It's legit facts. Don't argue with me. You're not intelligent enough to win this debate."

Connor bristled, but his mother firmly insisted, "That's enough, Connor."

He felt ganged-up on. He gave his mother a wounded look, annoyed she picked the doctor's side. He wished Elizabeth was able to stand up for him, but he understood she was lost in a vortex.

He himself was doing what he could to keep from collapsing. How could Elizabeth be suffering postpartum depression when he, too, felt so…damaged? What would the doctor call his sadness? Imitation postpartum depression? Appendicitis?

He snorted to himself, imagining the doctor trying to explain it away with his unromantic terms. Did the man have no passion? Did he take antidepressants every time a smidge of sadness dipped in his system? What a robot if he could feel normal after losing a baby.

And yet…

A nurse brought in Connor and Elizabeth's surviving child. A beautiful cherub with a sweet, angel face. She put the blanket-covered sweetheart in Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth sniffled. "Connor, Connor…I know. We planned to name our b-babies Misty and Sasha. But in light of what happened…I think I want her name to be Savannah. The word sounds like 'survivor' to me, and she is." The doctor had told them, considering the position of the cord, there had been a 50% chance neither child would survive.

Connor sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Elizabeth's hair. He cocked his head, studying the newborn's face carefully. "Yes. She does look like a Savannah."

"I feel like I lost half the light of the world," Elizabeth lamented as Connor's mother came to look at the baby. "It's not important, I guess, since I never even saw her. But I knew she was there. And I loved her already."

"I did too," Connor replied quietly as the doctor left the room.

The nurse began instructing Elizabeth on breast-feeding, which was utterly frustrating for both of them. "Why won't she latch?" Elizabeth whined irritably at one point. Connor's mother "helpfully" suggested, "Just use formula."

It was that moment when the baby finally latched.

"Ow," Elizabeth muttered, but she was relieved, sagging against the bed with a shake of her head. She was tired and sad and yet…the tiny baby brought her such joy through the rainstorm.

It was the most confusing, hectic moment the married couple had ever faced, and yet they remained side-by-side.


End file.
